


A Touch Unprofessional

by agirlinherhead



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:10:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlinherhead/pseuds/agirlinherhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during season 3. What if Kent had been the one to go back to the crime scene instead of Lizzie Pepper. This all came about from a photo and my comments on Tumblr & is written for Fandomology because she's dirty and I wanted to try smut again.</p><p>Typed and posted from my phone so not my best work either :/</p><p>No real plot & No spoilers.</p><p>WARNING: SMUT</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Touch Unprofessional

 

]

He knows he's missed something, he must have, he's sure of it. Killers don't just disappear.  
  
As he walks toward the Emery house he's surprised to find the door open and the crime scene tape pulled away but he's even more surprised to see DC Kent standing in the hall way looking at him triumphantly.  
  
"Sir, I found something" he says and can't keep the smile from his face as he leads the DI along the hall to where the bloody footprints stopped then wordlessly but somewhat ceremoniously opens a concealed door under the stairs "after you Sir" he offers gesturing almost theatrically with his hand. Yes. He's pleased with himself.  
  
Once inside the hidden room, if you can call it such, Kent begins to explain how he made his discovery "I knew something was wrong, I kept going back to the crime scene photos but they didn't make sense, I just knew something had been missed so I came back to take a look myself. It wasn't obvious at first but then I remembered back home when we were kids I used to play with this lad next door,  we'd play hide and seek and his house had this cupboard under the stairs his dad had put in, you know, so his mum had somewhere to put the vac and...  
  
He's still talking, Chandler knows he is, but he can't hear the words anymore, can't bring himself to tune back in because suddenly he's aware of just how close they are to one another, of how Kents breath tickles his neck with every word, of how with just one step they'd be chest to chest and right here and now that's too much for him to process.  
  
Kent must have noticed because he's quiet now and looking up at him obviously concerned, he leans forward slightly,  which doesn't help at all, "Are you alright Sir?" but Chandler doesn't reply, just swallows thickly and tries to think of anything, _anything_ , besides how attractive his young DC looks in that moment.  
  
"Oh god I'm sorry Sir, I've made you uncomfortable haven't I? I never meant to.."  
  
" It's not that..it's fine..I just.."  
  
"No really Sir, I'm sorry. ." Kent's panicking now, because although every-one's always ribbing him about his crush on his boss he'd always promised himself he'd keep it professional but here he is, practically on top of him and gushing uncontrollably "I didn't think Sir, I'm sorry. ." and he curses himself for sounding like a fool as he tries to leave.  
  
The space suddenly seems smaller than before the panic set in and Kent struggles to reach the door behind him, he can't quite make it so has to turn awkwardly and he's still mumbling apologies as he twists as far around as room allows, sure he must be a shade of beetroot by now and wondering how he'll ever live this down. Then he stops.  
  
  
He stops completely.  
  
  
Stops apologising. Stops moving. Stops breathing.  
  
  
Because from his new position he's fully aware of his boss' erection pressing tightly against his right hip.  
  
  
From the petrified look on Chandlers face he thinks it's safe to guess he's aware of it too.  
  
Neither one speaks but as Kent makes another move towards the door, unintentionally and unavoidably moving himself against the DI he doesn't miss the sharp inhalation of breath his boss takes as he squeezes his eyes tightly closed and places a hand on his arm and quietly asks "Can you just.. just give me a minute..just don't move for a minute"  
  
This is possibly the most embarrassing situation either have been in in their entire lives.  
  
Chandler can't think properly, can't breath properly either. _This can't be happening_.  
  
He takes a deep breath, _what must Kent think_ , another deep breath, _calm yourself down_ , he can hear his own heart beating and can sense the sweat building on his palms, he can feel the DC still pressed against him.  
  
He fumbles in his pocket, _Oh god where is it_ , until he finds what he's looking for, he grasps the balm tightly and he's not oblivious to the fact his hands are shaking as he struggles to undo the cap and then,  as if the fates are against him, he can't mask the look of horror as the tub falls, almost in slow motion, from between his trembling fingers and tumbles to a dark corner of the floor.  
  
"Sir, I'll get it" and Kent is gone from him instantly, thank god.  
  
Without the object of his desires pressed intimately against him he finds it easier to steady his heart beat, he needs to compose himself and he starts to count in his head, an old trick he'd learnt years before to help him when he thinks he's losing it.  
  
He's relieved when he feels himself come back to some sort if normality but then he hears "Sir, I can't find it" and looks down to see Kent kneeling before him, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and any sense of control he felt moments earlier leaves him instantly and he's left wanting and aching and already so impossible close.  
  
Kent's never seen lust in his DIs eyes before but now the look is unmistakable.  
  
It's partly this, and partly his own arousal which gives him the courage to reach out an unsure hand to cup the DI through his trousers.  
  
"Sir?..."  
  
Chandler can't bring himself to ask him to carry on so he stays silent instead and leans his head back allowing Kent to make any further decisions.  
  
He lets out a soft moan as he feels his belt buckle unfastened and his zip pulled down.  
  
His shirt is lifted up and he feels warmth, a hand, work its way up his stomach as another hand runs up and down smoothly along the outside of his underwear, he has to bite his own lip as the elastic of his boxer shorts is pulled down, releasing him quickly, and the hand leaves his stomach and the warmth is suddenly wrapped around somewhere else completely.  
  
It's with the first gentle strokes, the first push and pull, that he feels a soft wetness and just has to look down, he's never experienced anything that could compare to the sight of DC Kent running his tongue over the end of his cock.  
  
As he continues with his strokes there's a questioning look in Kents eyes and Chandler has to make an effort to hold his gaze, because as aroused and desperate as he feels right now he knows Kent needs confirmation that he really does want this. He lets his eyes fall closed and hums out approval which seems to be enough as Kent takes him between his lips and begins what the DI can only describe as some slow kind of torture.  
  
He thinks Kent must have some experience as he seems to know what he is doing, and that thought disturbs him for a second before he's distracted by the removal of Kents lips only to be replaced by deft hands which set to work faster, each stroke punctuated by a squeeze. He's done this to himself numerous times before but to have Kent do this for him, in reality not just his sordid fantasies, leaves him quaking and breathless and he's not sure he can take much more of the mans hands, lips and teasing tongue running circles around him and eliciting the most undignified of moans.  
  
His thighs are trembling and he has nothing to hold onto until his hands find their way into Kents soft curls. He knows it's too early but he's throbbing for release and as he pulls the wide eyed DC forward and buries himself deep between his lips once again the only thought that crosses his mind is _I'm going to come in his mouth_.  
  
His knees seem to give in and his stomach drops as he feels the familiar near painful tingle as he reaches his climax, and whether it's an involuntary jerk of his hips or last minute nerves he's not sure but with one uncontrollable movement he's out of Kents mouth and he can only watch as the last of his come bursts almost violently across the boys lips.  
  
It's filthy and dirty and _so fucking terribly erotic_.  
  
As Kent turns to move Chandler reaches to still him then turns his face upwards.  
  
"Let me just look at you" he says and is awed by the sight of the DC looking up at him, his own unmistakable white fluid smeared across his reddened lips. He needs to look at him, because if Kent wants nothing else, if he never has this again with anyone, he wants to always remember this image. As a blush creeps up on the younger mans cheeks Chandler can't help but think it completes the picture but then he lets the DC go as his own embarrassment emerges.  
  
"We should..."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
While the DI rearranges his clothing Kent heads for a bathroom, there's not much either of them can think to say but once they're out in the cool air Chandler finally struggles for words  
  
"Kent, after work tonight, if you're free, I don't live far and I mean, if you would like, we could..."  
  
"Yeah Sir, I'd like that" It's a proposition of sorts and the best he's going to get so Kent keeps his chuckle to himself and as he climbs onto his Vespa he puts his hand in to his pocket and rolls the small hexagonal tub between his fingers, wondering whether he should feel guiltier about lying to his boss.  
  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.


End file.
